Horace Hill Park
by t dot chick
Summary: Whether it's a profession of love, a tearful conversation, or even a disappearance, it's happening at Horace Hill Park. Starts out fluffy, but rated T for later chapters. Yes, you never thought it'd be so, but I have returned! Chapter 4 finally!
1. Chapter One

A/N: I wrote this in a notebook while I was on my vacation and just changed a few small things when I typed it just now. It's pure fluff. The first chapter is Zack/Summer, sorry it's so short. The second chappie will be Katie/Freddy, and much longer. Enjoy! -Jules

"Wow, this is really good," commented Zack.

"Uh huh," Summer said, only half paying attention to what he was saying.

"No, seriously," Zack replied. "This is some of the best lipgloss I've ever tasted."

Summer sat up. "And how many girls' lipglosses have you been tasting?"

"Only yours."

Summer smiled. "Well then, I guess I'll be wearing mocha swirl more often." She giggled as she lay back down beside Zack.

They'd been making out in the grass at the park for the last half hour of the beautiful summer day. And still no one had discovered them (thank God). Whenever they needed some time alone, Summer and Zack would come to Horace Hill Park and lie in the grass.

Exhausted, Summer closed her eyes and began to dream. She dreamt about lying in this same position, years from now, with Zack's arms still around her. Only, they'd be lying in bed, morning sunshine streaming through their window, and momentarily, their kids would come running in and they'd jump on top of them. It was a nice little dream.

"Hey, Sum?" whispered Zack gently. "Sum, wake up. We fall asleep here, our parents will kill us." Summer opened her eyes and looked up at the clouds. "Someone's been having sweet dreams," observed Zack.

She was a bit scared to tell Zack what she'd been thinking of, but one look at his smile told Summer to trust him with her dreams. "Do you ever think about having kids?" she asked softly.

"Sure, sometimes. Everyone thinks about it. I mean, yeah, it's a little bit weird for me to admit it, but I do think that it'll be cool to be a dad someday."

She pulled Zack into a soft kiss. "I love you," she whispered.

Zack smiled. "I love you too."

They lay there awhile longer, staring up at the clouds.


	2. Chapter Two

It was late evening, and no one was left in the park but Katie and Freddy. Even after the rest of the band had gone home, those two just didn't want the day to end. They'd pushed each other on the swings, built sand castles, and they even had slide-climbing races. Tired, they now were sitting atop the tunnel on the play structure. When they were little, they'd both been scared to climb up there, but had gotten over it in fourth grade.

"Freddy, you know me better than anyone else, so I feel comfortable telling you this."

Freddy was rather startled by this. "Is it something serious?" he asked, a tad concerned.

"Sort of," Katie replied. "But then, very much not-serious in a way. It like, feels like the most serious thing on the planet, but then it makes you feel so giddy and hyper, like a whole lot of sugar would, and you realize that nothing in the whole wide world could be any sweeter." She tore her eyes away from the gleaming galaxies miles away, and forced herself to look Freddy in the eye, facing the glance she'd been avoiding all night. "I'm in love," she said solemnly.

Freddy was quite taken aback by this sudden revelation. "Um, in l-love? But we're only fourteen. Who exactly are you in love _with_?"

She looked away for a moment before providing an answer. "Well, I'll give you a hint. He is the coolest guy in school."

Freddy's heart sank. He felt like he was going to be sick, but he fought the nausea and managed to say, "Is it Zack?"

"Well, fine, maybe he's the second coolest."

"Josh Harding?"

"Okay, new hint!" said Katie. "He is one of the most talented, focused, passionate people I know."

"Um" he was running out of names. "Errâ€ Lawrence?"

"No you little hedgehog head!" she exclaimed.

"Please don't call me that."

"He's smart, funny, and kind; he's a free spirit, yet he can chill and get down to business when he has to; his temper is fiery, but he's totally loving once you get to know him, and he's friendly and he likes nature and he's kind to little animals even if he won't admit it and"

_And he's sitting right next to me_, she thought.

"â€And his name is Freddy."

He had been looking away up until then, convinced that her love was for someone else. He nearly fell off the roof of the tunnel. "What?"

"His name is Freddy. His name is Freddy Jones."

He could feel a small smile tugging at his lips, but refrained from pulling a full-on Cheshire Cat. Freddy felt like he'd just been hit by an eighteen wheeler, and his heart stopped eighteen times before he realized that he wasn't breathing. Thousands of thoughts ran through his head like a hamster on a plastic wheel. Now, he knew what he needed to do.

"Whoa. Interestingly enough, I'm in love, too."

"Really?" Katie asked, eyes widening "Withâ€ who?" A faint glimmer of light shed hope upon her dreary heart.

"I'll give you a hint. She"

But he couldn't do it. He just could not bare to drag this out for any longer.

"â€Is you. She is you, Katie. She's _you. _I LOVE YOU."

His eyes were so intense; his love was so intense.

A bird's chirping drew her eyes away, and she checked the park for others. No animals, a few birds flying towards the moon. No one to ruin this moment. She did, however, feel angels, and an angel's soft breath enveloping her body. And it took not long for her to find that the only angel there was, indeed, Freddy.

As moonlight brushed silvery streaks into her long hair, she finally spoke to him what she'd longed to say.

"I love you, Freddy."

"I love you, Katie."

He touched her shoulder and he kissed her, and she did, indeed, kiss him back.


	3. Chapter Three

A/N: Aren't you proud of me? I UPDATED!! YAY!! LOL. More updates to come this week! :-)

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If only life could be simple. If only I could shake off this pain. But I can't. Everyone else deals, they cope, they move on and get over it. But not me. The entire concept of "getting over it" was always fairly insane to me. You can't just get over something that hurt you! It takes time. And during that time, the wounds will sting a bit before they can start to heal. If something hurts you enough, the sting never completely goes away, and you just learn to live with it. But then, whenever you least expect it, the pain returns, sharply and without warning. Somehow, this dawned on me at an early age. No one understood, and still no one understands. All I know is, this pain is never going to go away.

I thought it didn't matter. I thought he didn't matter. Then one day, he grabbed me by the shoulders and told me that he needed me. At first, I was scared. We were barely fifteen, and I'd known him for so long that the idea of being with him was... for lack of a better word, weird. I really hadn't a clue what to do, what to say to him. And then I awoke one morning to a sunless sky and loudly chirping birds, to find that everything was different. Maybe it was the world that had changed. Or maybe him. Or me. But I knew for sure that something had changed, and I suddenly felt that I needed him, as well.

After that, there was no getting us off of each other. He became my other half, always joined to me at the hip (or the mouth). He was a never-ending mystery to me. The way his lips felt against mine, and the way his hair felt when I ran my fingers through it, and the way e could be talking about some pointless game and suddenly start quoting poets and talking about life and death and love and lust. He would say the most profound things at the oddest moments, and I fell even harder for him. I knew that as long as I had him, everything would be OK.

Well, everything wasn't OK. Someone had to go and snatch it right from me, take him from me. Without a word, he vanished. Disappeared. Missing child ads went up on every bulletin board and telephone pole. His face was on the news every night. No suspects, no clues, no idea how any of this could have happened. And still I do not know where he is, or if he is OK.

Zack Mooneyham has been gone for six years now, and still I cannot sleep at night for fear of forgetting he is gone, waking up in the morning, and finding out all over again. I just can't go through that. But I always seem to forget. Ever since I fell in love with him, nothing seems to stick in my mind the way it used to. Except for the last time I saw him.

We were at the park. It was a misty morning, and we'd been out there all night. We'd sneaked out. We always used to sneak out and spend the night at the park, making out and staring at the stars. Even Freddy thought us to be mad. "Your parents will catch you." But they never did. We left our houses in the middle of the night and would retreat to our homes when the first birds sang out their morning songs. This particular morning, we had left notes for our parents telling them that we'd gone to an emergency band meeting. All night long we'd been holding each other under an oak tree's lush canopy. Autumn was fast approaching, and soft leaves tickled our faces as we lay there. I don't quite know how, but we never did go too far. Things were just fine the way they were, and neither of us felt the need to mess that up.

I remember his hair, messed up and adorable. His eyes, fiery yet loving. In the hours before, he'd finally told me he loved me, and I finally realized that I could not bare to live another moment without feeling his touch. So that night, we did go that far. Zack made love to me between blankets spread over that grassy ground. Both being far from stupid, we were, indeed, safe. After that long and tiring night, hours with no stopping, we dressed before any light was shed over the city. And now we sat atop the jungle gym, just gazing into each others eyes and holding each other. I hoped it would never end.

Alas, it did. We parted ways after a long, tender kiss, and I watched him walk away. With that, he was gone. He made it home, but I never spoke to him again. His parents did not know if he'd said he was going anywhere. But the next morning I was awakened by my sister shaking me roughly, and when I opened my eyes and blinked against the sunlight, softly she pulled back my hair and whispered, "Summer, he's disappeared. He's disappeared. He's gone and disappeared!"

Great, just great. I never get around to crying. But don't think for a second that that meant it hurt any less. The pain's always been there. It's never gone away.

I wonder what he looks like now. He's not dead. I would have felt something if he had died. And my heart still feels like nothing has really changed. So I know that he is alive.

Six years ago today, he vanished. I am sitting beneath the canopy of an oak tree. And weeping for the first time. And for the last time.

Every time I walk by this park, I think to myself, "We made love right there, right at that very spot."


End file.
